


I'm Told I Come Across As Awkward Sometimes...

by usernameapathy



Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: Angst, F/F, Introspection, Magilou gets a couple of lines because of course she does, Non-explicit sexytimes, Romance, humor?, scene snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:14:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29765703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usernameapathy/pseuds/usernameapathy
Summary: Eleanor, Velvet, and four scenes from a developing relationship relating to hands (especially Velvet's daemon one).Written for the day 28 prompt for Femslash February 2021.
Relationships: Velvet Crowe/Eleanor Hume
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24
Collections: Femslash February





	I'm Told I Come Across As Awkward Sometimes...

The first time Eleanor seriously contemplates Velvet's daemon hand (claw? Claw-hand?) is in Port Cadnix, right before they set sail.

Admittedly, she reflects later as the pirates' ship pulls out of the port, said contemplations don't go quite how she planned. She still isn't entirely sure why some of the other members of their group - especially Magilou - keep glancing at her and muttering amused comments about being 'good with her hands', but it is a bit embarrassing how she managed to divert herself from considering the bandages on Velvet's arm to her clothing in general.

In her defense, it's hard not to do so. Yes, Velvet is a daemon - and a particularly nasty one at that - even if she's a strangely human-looking one. And her clothing is _certainly_ totally inappropriate. But that also makes it rather awkwardly hard to ignore if she happens to be looking anywhere in the daemon's direction, particularly since Velvet maintaining a human appearance means she does have the figure to pull it off-

She shakes herself and looks back down at the sea - nice, cool, calming; totally unlike Velvet. _Stop blushing over the damned daemon and concentrate. You have a mission from the Shepherd himself, and you need to make certain you've considered all of the elements relating to it._ And the hand is certainly one of them. It'd be a terrifyingly powerful weapon even just to be considered abstractly; having actually seen it in action made that considerably worse. She doesn't even want to think about what actually being devoured by it would be like.

Though the daemon's appearance is certainly relevant to that point, because the claw-hand is the only thing that's obviously inhuman about her. And when it's covered up by the bandages Velvet normally wears - the ones that originally got her on this whole tangent about clothing in the first place - it isn't even noticeable.

"How does _that_ work?"

She doesn't realize she's said it out loud until the voice comes from behind her. "How does what work?"

Eleanor is pleased that she doesn't obviously start as she turns to see Velvet. The black-haired daemon walks past her to rest both her arms against the deck rail, and Eleanor lets her gaze drift towards the bandaged one (in part, she admits privately, because it's safer than letting it drift towards... other parts of Velvet.) "I've been wondering about the bandages on your... arm. It seems like they can control its transformation somehow, without being affected or devoured themselves. Is it some sort of special arte, or...?"

Velvet looks at her with narrowed eyes, and Eleanor hastily adds "I'm not asking to try and find a weakness or anything. I was just curious."

Velvet holds her gaze for a moment, then shrugs. "Huh." She looks back at the sea. "There's no arte, as far as I know. My arm _can't_ hold its human shape for very long without some kind of wrappings. I found these in the cell when I regained consciousness after I transformed, but I think they're just ordinary bandages."

Eleanor can't quite bring herself to ask for more details about that part. From what Velvet and the others have let drop, she's pieced together what Velvet claims happened on the night she became a daemon, but she won't believe it's true. The Abbey makes sacrifices for the greater good, but only in accordance with what reason dictates. It does not murder little boys to gain power.

_"But what else could make Velvet hate Artorius so much?"_

Laphicet's serious voice and expression - so human for a malak... - ring out in her memory, but she shakes her head. Daemons don't need reasons to hate. Even ones as seemingly, passionately humanlike as Velvet and her companions-

"If that's the case..." she says out loud, "why haven't you ever replaced them with a glove or something? It might stand out less. That's part of why I was wondering before if you wanted me to mend your clothes sometime, actually. They must draw unwelcome attention." 

She feels her cheeks warm as she realizes that might not have... come out quite right, but Velvet doesn't seem bothered. "I've thought about it, but honestly, look around at us. Even if _I_ looked totally normal, our group as a whole would still stand out anywhere. Especially now that an exalted exorcist praetor is with us. Our best advantage isn't avoiding notice, it's that the Abbey is so obsessed with controlling information that they won't give anyone reason to suspect us in particular. You heard their ridiculous cover story about what happened to the High Priest, right?"

Eleanor feels herself flush again, this time with indignation. "You know very well how dangerous panic and confusion can be - you've even used it as a weapon! Limiting information to those with a need to know is a perfectly reasonable tactic that has been used by rulers throughout history!" Though the mention of the High Priest does bother her a little. Gideon had been a criminal, and one who hadn't even faced proper justice for his crimes thanks to the intervention of Velvet's group. Surely the least the Abbey could have done was admit to his actions rather than continue to let the people believe he was a genuine holy man?

Velvet waves her bandaged hand dismissively. "Feel free to keep telling yourself it's about 'reason'. I guess it does sound nicer than thinking everyone else is yours to order around as you please."

Eleanor clenches a fist, but doesn't bother with a rebuttal. As lightly as Velvet delivers the words, there's a certain... smoldering fire underneath them she can recognize, and escalating this into a full-fledged argument doesn't seem like a rational move in itself. Especially since she and Velvet have actually been speaking relatively civilly to each other, despite everything.

And besides, thinking about that fire brings her back to what she was contemplating in the first place. (...She doesn't consider at the moment that it was the danger of Velvet's hand, rather than how it represented her only difference from a human.) Those... burning emotions inside Velvet may represent the worst aspects of humanity, so different from Lord Artorius's teachings about overcoming the baser passions to let her higher nature guide her, but they are very human, not just the mindless destructiveness of a daemon. Not for the first time, she wonders what the real Velvet Crowe had been like, before the daemonblight consumed her.

...And also not for the first time, of course, she wishes that Velvet wasn't so - for lack of a better word - hot in another sense.

***

She happens to be thinking about that day when a bandaged hand comes down on the deck rail next to hers, a long time later. "Are you all right?"

Eleanor knows exactly why Velvet's asking. They're two days out from Southgand, well into more central climes, and still she hasn't been able to stop thinking about what had happened there. Palamedes would have been bad enough. All her convictions in the Abbey's ultimate rightness, all of her faith in her own purpose, had shattered in that room at the bottom of the undersea temple. _I became an exorcist to make sure that no other little girl would ever have to lose their mother like I did... And instead, I..._

_I killed her mother myself. Right in front of her. And she doesn't even know..._

And Kamoana herself... Eleanor can't tell herself anymore that the Abbey, that Lord Artorius, would never sacrifice a child in the name of the greater good. There had to be _some_ sort of reason for it. Something buried in the parts of Innominat's book they hadn't yet translated that would explain just how important his revival and the creation of the therions was to saving the world. But even if there was, she wasn't sure she could accept that as justification. _And does that make me weak, or does it...?_

Her fists tighten. But Palamedes had been followed by Haria's destruction, and then learning about _why_ it had happened... All those times she'd wondered about why Velvet and the others seemed so much closer to humans than daemons in so many ways, wondering what the difference was, and now she knew. There wasn't one. Malevolence was inside everyone, and there was no way of predicting how much it would affect one heart compared to another. _I've spent ten years despising daemons, and now... I could become a daemon myself at any time._

She almost wonders why she hasn't already.

But that also does help her answer the question. "Yes. Or... I'm not all right, yet, but I will be. I have to be strong - I know how important it is for Laphicet's vessel to remain pure. You don't have to worry about him."

Velvet looks away. "Right... Laphicet's vessel." She shakes her head as though to drive away a distracting thought. "I think I know you well enough by now to know that you mean that, but still. Grimoirh says that all it can take to break a person apart is a small crack in their soul, and what happened back there... It wasn't small." She folds her arms. "And it's probably not the worst that'll happen. I'm not bluffing when I say that I'll tear the remaining therions away no matter what the malevolence they were holding back does as a result."

Eleanor grits her teeth. "I know that! But... If I had known what taking Kamoana from the earthpulse point would have done... And yet, when I try to imagine leaving her there..." She squeezes her eyes shut. "I don't know anymore what I want to do."

She feels something come to rest on top one of her hands - something covered in cloth - and opens her eyes in surprise. Velvet's placed her bandaged hand over Eleanor's. The therion looks at her, though she avoids meeting Eleanor's eyes. "I know what _I_ want you to do. Stop **worrying** so much about everything. My choices are on me. You just focus on your oath and take care of Laphicet, like you said." She clears her throat. "And Kamoana, I guess, since we need to keep the therions safe."

 _Is that all it is?_ Eleanor almost asks, not for the first time since hearing Velvet insist on why she'd saved Kamoana. But she can't let that distract her. She narrows her eyes. "You're the one who kept telling me that it's wrong to just accept orders as a justification for anything. I won't use my oath as an excuse to avoid my responsibility."

Velvet glares back. "You're not responsible for anything I do. I've said it over and over: I'll have my revenge, no matter what. That's my choice, not yours."

"And I'm seeking the truth about this world! That's on me!" She takes a deep breath. "Besides, as long as I'm with you, I can still try and protect as many people along the way as I can. After all, if it wasn't for me, would you have thought about why... why you wanted to let Kamoana live, in time?"

Velvet sighs, letting out her own breath in a long exhalation Eleanor carefully avoids watching. "Still the noble exorcist, I suppose?"

"As I said: you need Laphicet's vessel to stay pure, so you should be grateful." Eleanor lets a smile slip onto her face. This conversation hardly qualifies as finding answers, but speaking her thoughts out to Velvet has made her feel more sure of her footing, at least for the moment. 

Apparently Velvet feels the same way, as she says nothing. In the momentary silence, Eleanor notices for the first time the feel of Velvet's bandaged hand on her bare skin where her fingers emerge from her gloves. Like she's noticed before, up close Velvet seems unnaturally cold somehow - what she's now learned is the most tangible sensation of malevolence to the average human. But there's also an odd warmth - maybe even heat would be a better word - leaking through the bandages. It's disconcerting, but not entirely unpleasant.

Just like being around Velvet in general is coming to be...

"You two sure that's a good idea?" The light voice comes from behind them. Eleanor glances over her shoulder to see Magilou. The self-proclaimed witch wears her usual careless grin, though after Magilou's admitted to her own hidden knowledge about the truth of the world Eleanor has started to wonder if it's entirely honest...

"Huh?"

Magilou waves in the general direction of their hands on the deck rail. "That. Aren'tcha worried at all about malevolence?"

Eleanor yanks her hand away - not because she's worried about malevolence, and certainly not because she's embarrassed (there's nothing to _be_ embarrassed about.) There's just no reason for her to stayed in contact with Velvet, not when she didn't actually need the apparent concern Velvet was expressing, if only for Laphicet's sake. Velvet's own hand moves back to her side just as quickly. "I thought you and Eizen both said that malevolence doesn't work that way."

Magilou tips her head to the side, tapping one finger against its side. "Oh, did we...?"

***

Eleanor's thinking about _that_ day a long time later, on an overcast late afternoon in Taliesin as she tries to refocus on the situation at hand and not on the events of the previous day. 

But it's not easy. Everywhere they go in the city they encounter echoes of the dream in people's conversations, and every time they do, Eleanor keeps remembering the face of a dead girl she's never actually met. And realizing as she does so how little she still knows about Velvet.

It had been easy enough to accept Velvet's casual admissions that she was an inhuman monster back when she'd first found herself captured by the party, when she'd believed that all daemons were monsters completely separate from their former humanity. But it had also been easy to keep believing that _Velvet_ believed that, and didn't mind it, even after she'd come to learn the truth about the other woman and daemons in general and malevolence. When Velvet had accepted the title of 'Lord of Calamity', when she'd casually admitted that she devoured everyone in her own home village, she'd been able to take Velvet at face value when she acted as though those things didn't bother her.

_Or perhaps I just wanted to believe that._

But then they'd come to the illusion of Aball drawn from Velvet's deepest wishes. Then she'd learned how right Bienfu (for once!) had been with his gossipy speculations about there having been a special someone Velvet had had feelings for growing up. Then she'd seen the look on Velvet's face when Niko had fought past her initial shock to take Velvet's daemon claw-hand in her own hands with such tenderness...

_"Daemon or no daemon, you're still you. Okay?"_

And then after that, for Velvet to use that same hand to kill Niko a second time... She'd been horrified at the brutality it took for Velvet to break free from the illusion, even understanding how angry it must have made her to have her deepest regrets used to build up false hope (she now finally understood why the others had been so angry about Melchior's illusionary artes when they'd first faced him at Lothringen). But now, looking back, she's far more horrified trying to imagine how it had felt to be Velvet right then. 

How she still must be feeling now.

That thought gives her the resolve she'd been wavering on for a good five minutes now, and she steps forward into the room at the end of the inn's guest wing. Velvet's still there, sitting on a bed and staring out the window facing the sea. (The window facing west - away from Aball.) 

The therion turns to face her. "Weren't you and Magilou supposed to go track down that stage director for the latest version of her dumb comedy routine?" She smiles thinly. "I'm not sure it's your thing, but statistically speaking _one_ of us has to get it right at some point."

Eleanor huffs - "I can be funny!" - in faux indignation, but she can't maintain the tone for very long. She sits down besides Velvet, though at a safe enough distance not to seem like she's intruding. "I was coming to ask... Are you all right, Velvet? Laphicet is worried about you, even more than he was yesterday." She feels a bead of sweat start to trickle down her forehead, and hastily wipes it away, feeling slightly annoyed. There _was_ certainly nothing wrong or dishonest about her statement - the young malak was extremely concerned about Velvet, justifiably so.

Of course, Velvet just shrugs. "I'm fine. Like I said back when we first sailed into this, I'm used to having nightmares. At least this time we got something useful out of it."

"A-are you sure? I don't mean to pry, but seeing your brother again... And Niko..."

Velvet lifts her bandaged arm, and in an explosion of black and red energy, her claw-hand bursts forth, and Eleanor starts instinctively. The other woman fixes a vague amber stare on the claw. "I didn't see them again. Laphi's dead - I knew it was all a trick the moment I heard he wasn't; I just lied to myself for a while after. And I devoured the real Niko myself. She never would have..."

Eleanor stares at the claw-hand too. It _is_ repulsive, even now - the distorted veins pulsating slightly, even with the arm at relative rest rather than actively consuming something. But Velvet's seen her own scars, and not flinched from them even slightly, awkward though the moment had been in other ways. And besides-

She stretches out one hand and edges closer to Velvet, more than half-expecting the daemon to flinch away. But she doesn't. "Never would have what?" Her gloved hand comes to rest very lightly atop Velvet's oversized inhuman one, the same way Velvet's had all those weeks ago on the ship. "Never would have told you she didn't care that you were a daemon?"

Velvet meets her gaze, but says nothing.

"Velvet, she became a daemon too. Maybe she didn't become one the normal way, but still, she was human, just the way you were. No, the way you _are_. I've learned that you can't draw a clear line between humans and daemons, and maybe especially not when it comes to the people w-we... love."

Her heart is suddenly pounding loudly as Velvet keeps looking at her. One side of the therion's mouth tugs upward. "That dream to the contrary, I'm pretty sure Niko was _not_ in love with me. One of the last things she ever talked to me about was learning how to bake my sister's special quiche for the boy she liked."

Eleanor shakes her head, feeling her own mouth twitch. "I said she loved you, not that she was in love with you. There is a difference." Although...

Abruptly she lifts her hand off of Velvet's and stands up, looking away. She's not entirely certain that Velvet will be okay yet - this sort of thing is not the kind of thing even the Lord of Calamity can overcome so quickly - but she's not sure how much longer she can keep this up before she says something she can't unsay.

_Because Niko may not have been in love with you, Velvet. But I'm starting to wonder if maybe I am._

***

And Eleanor's thinking about all three of those conversations even later than that, the night before they're supposed to leave Meirchio and head back south.

 _Supposed_ to leave being the important phrase there. She stretches under the covers, feeling warm and relaxed and... well, satisfied. Also very, _very_ embarrassed - but not regretful. _I can't say I'm done regretting the choices I make - no matter how much I believe in my convictions, I just think that's who I am - but I don't think I'll regret this one. Even if..._

Velvet sits up beside her and reaches with her bandaged hand for the tie she uses for her hair, which is lying somewhere on the ground besides the bed (neither of them had been particularly concentrating earlier on where they left it). Her human hand strokes Eleanor's cheek. "Hey. To paraphrase our mutual... acquaintance: gald for your thoughts, Praetor Eleanor?"

Eleanor feels herself turning red, but shrugs it off. "Just that... we should have done this a long time ago."

She notices Velvet's shoulders tensing slightly, and winces. Too late to recall the words that have just reminded Velvet of her belief that there's only so much time left to them. Eleanor still thinks that Velvet is assuming the worst - even with the book completely translated, they don't know the exact nature of the relationship between Innominat and the therions, not for certain - but she also knows that even now, Velvet won't necessarily believe her about that. And she admits that maybe she's just hoping for the best, even knowing how often she's been wrong...

Not that she doesn't have her own worries drifting back into her mind, now that she's not so... caught up in the moment. Even this bed is one of them. They're in the inn - both her reason and morals, and her emotions, would have objected to being in someone's house for _this_ \- but it's still empty except for the other members of their group staying there, with all of Meirchio's citizens having fled to the south. _Fled from us. But we had no choice._

Maybe if she keeps saying that, she'll believe it.

Velvet looks back to her, lowering her human hand slightly. She lifts up her bandaged hand - apparently having given up on looking for the hair tie for the moment - and squeezes one of Eleanor's with it. "...Okay, what is it this time?"

"Huh?"

"I know that look. Is this the 'I feel tremendous guilt over things I couldn't control' mood, or the 'I'm stubbornly determined for everything to work out for the best even when that's impossible' one?"

Eleanor feels her face somehow get even redder. "D-don't presume you always know what's on my mind, daemon!" She tugs at Velvet's hand, trying (but not terribly seriously) to shake free of it.

Velvet frowns briefly. "Hey, be careful. We both made _very_ sure to keep those bandages on earlier - I don't want them coming loose now."

Eleanor smiles. "Or what, you'll devour me? You did earlier, and I think we were both fine with that." The moment the last word comes out of her mouth, she squeezes her eyes shut. _I can't believe I just said that!_

She may have finally come to truly believe she's acting in the name of the principles in her heart, the principles the Abbey should have stood for - rather than merely those she'd followed out of blind obedience - but there are times like where she still can't help but feel like she's a _total_ disgrace. And worse, not even really _mind_ -

Her eyes are still closed, but she can feel Velvet's frown shifting to a smile. "Oh, really? Are you willing to test that theory, o fearsome exorcist?" Her human hand lowers again to where Eleanor's scar starts and begins to trace down it.

Eleanor shivers - pleasantly, and not from the cold she can't even feel at the moment - but she still lives in accordance with reason enough to open her eyes and give Velvet a Look. "Aren't you the one who keeps insisting that I'm human and need my sleep? You wouldn't want Laphicet's vessel to be all tired out tomorrow, would you?"

Velvet is unfazed. "Aren't _you_ the one who keeps insisting that he's become a lot more mature than I'm willing to admit? And that you're a lot stronger than you used to be?"

That gives Eleanor pause for a moment. _I **have** said that, but... is it really true?_ Yes, she's here right now. Defying the Abbey and Shepherd Artorius to fight for what she believes is right, having helped wreck a plan to forever rid the world of malevolence because the price it demanded was too high. Hand-in-hand (among other things) with the most feared daemon in that world, working alongside and caring about all manner of criminals and deviants. Accepting truths that she spent so long denying...

That last part settles her. Maybe - probably - she'll never be free of doubts about her actions, or the desire to shoulder burdens she can't handle. But she isn't closing her eyes anymore, and maybe that's an answer right there, or at least the start of one. She knows where she's fixing them, and trying to live by emotions and reason both...

And right now, the former is _definitely_ the more compelling of the two. She reaches out with her free hand-

Velvet actually turns red. "Stop that! I'm trying to concentrate!"

"Is that an order, Lord of Calamity?" Eleanor infuses the melodramatic title with all the irony she can muster. She's still not entirely certain of how much that is, but Velvet seems to get it as she smiles back.

"Oh, please. You've never paid attention to that oath anyway. And besides, you're... really good... at it..."

"Well, I did say as much before." Even if she'd have to have Magilou point out the exact details...

And while it lasting forever is (clearly) the last thing either of them would expect, for the rest of that night, at least, things do go the way Eleanor and Velvet have planned.


End file.
